Politics and Poetics
by vulgarare
Summary: He is politics, prim and perfect. She is poetry, an abstract, delicate beauty. Her delicateness softens his rough edges, and her soft fibs complements his dark lies. They are made for no one but each other.
1. DO YOU REMEMBER ME?

It is early in the morning and the office building is unusually lively. Chatter and footsteps fill the empty spaces of the floor, and the smell of coffee clings to the air. His entrance seems to bring on more energy, with people approaching him as though they were moths and he were a source of light. He is met by cheerful greetings, handshakes, and congratulations. Pride fills the office space, and this is because the results for last week's poll were posted last night. He is winning by a landslide, a sizable sixty-three percent that he intends to keep for the remainder of the election season.

At first, he entertains the congratulatory crowd, forcing himself to match their energy. But he quickly tires of this seemingly endless field, and so he excuses himself. He pours himself coffee, and retreats to his office to prepare for what today has to bring him. As he does so, his eyes glaze over the digital clock on his desk, becoming slightly impatient as his friend and campaign manager doesn't come in until a few hours later, when he's already overly weary of the attention. Some people are still knocking at the window of his office, waving and giving him a thumbs up, and he's considering pulling out his headphones so he'll have an excuse to ignore him.

But he doesn't do that. His campaign manager's voice echoes in his head, recalling what she told him the first time he mentioned running for office.

"Remember the three Ps, Gale: Punctual. Polite. Positive."

He releases a sigh as he begins to mess around with the documents he has to look through for the day, opening two and moving them so that they can both be opened at the same time. As he skims through them, he taps the end of a pen against his notebook, while his other hand scrolls through to see how many pages he has to read, how many markers there are, and what comments his officemates have made pertaining them. He grows bored easily, so he is only thankful when he hears the rhythmic knock on the door.

"Come in, Sophie." He recognizes her from the knock, the young girl always has her own. She changes it every now and then, depending on what music she's learnt from the entertainers, but she'll always make herself easy to distinguish, which is exactly what he asked of her when she was first hired.

At his approval, Sophie opens the door, but only partly. She uses the door and her body as something of a barrier between his office and the rest of the floor. "Mr. Hawthorne, there's a woman here. She's a reporter with The Tribune. She doesn't have any sort of appointment, but she was hoping she could have a quick word with you. Emphasis on quick."

"Did you get this reporter's name?" He furrows his brows and takes the remaining attention he reserved for his work and gives it to his assistant, as she is acting strange. Sophie will usually tell him a visitor's name if one should ever stop by. In fact, she'll usually call him if someone is there to see him.

"Yes, and she's got the proper identification. She checks out." She swallows hard, almost looking nervous. "But she asks that she remains anonymous for now. She wants you to see her for yourself. She thinks you wouldn't believe it. She promises you'll recognize her. Or, at least, she hopes you would."

He wants to think that this might be Katniss coming to see him, that what Sophie is saying is untrue and Katniss told her to say those things because she wants to surprise him, but that isn't true. It might be Cressida, but he hasn't seen her since the war. The last he's heard, she's busy making films with her crew.

"Alright, just let her in," he surrenders.

Sophie smiles and turns around. Gale doesn't say anything, but he hears her whisper, "Good luck," to his visitor.

He hears a breathy laugh, and then footsteps. This reporter is wearing heels. It cannot be any of the women he knows, the only one who wears heels is his campaign manager, and due to their friendship, she barges into his office whenever she pleases.

But the mystery is quick to end as she steps through the door, and shuts it behind her. At first, it is her frame he sees. Her blonde hair kept out of her face and tied behind her with a pink ribbon, the style showing off her strongest features: her cheekbones, slightly tinted with a natural pink glow. When she faces him, when his glance meets hers, he grows pale and his mouth dries. He loosens his tie, though he is aware that it is not the problem, and gestures toward the seat.

"I must say, Mr. Hawthorne, I never pegged you for a politician." She smirks as she takes the seat opposite of his desk, crossing her ankles and resting her hands on her lap. He watches her closely, afraid that she might disappear in any moment. His stomach twists, reminding him of the guilt that took him years to escape from. "You've always hated us townspeople."

He takes a second to regain his composure, though he feels it's a moment too long. "You know what they say, Miss Undersee. People change." He swallows hard, and when he blinks, he's taken back to that day in District 12. To the bombings. To when he stood outside of her house, watching it burn and the few survivors run away from it. "But I could say the same thing to you. You've always hated journalists."

She smiles at his recollection, relief that even after all of these years, he hasn't forgotten her and their time together, however meaningless it might've been for him. "No, I hated Caesar Flickerman," she corrects him. "And I still do. But he's no journalist. At least, I refuse to acknowledge him as such."

He can't help but allow a smile to bloom on his features. There is a mixture of emotions stirring within him. Relief that she is still alive. Anger for her that she allowed him to think she's been dead all those years. Sadness that they couldn't have spent more time together. Anger for himself for not making sure if she was dead, for simply just taking everybody's word for it. For not picking up the paper often enough to perhaps see her name on it.

"Fair enough," he replies simply. "Now, about this interview…"

"Let's get started," she agrees, reaching into her purse to take out her voice recorder. She sets on his desk, and pulls out a notepad and a pen.

She starts him off with an easy question: how he feels about the poll results. Despite the practice he's had for occasions like these, he isn't perfect. He stumbles through some sentences, he uses far too many filler words for his liking, and his focus is elsewhere. He knows exactly where his mind is, and perhaps she does, too. He can't help but continue to go back in time through his memories, to when life was both simpler and more complicated, to their days before the rebellion and during Katniss's turn in the games. And he can still see it clearly. A younger version of the two of them, running through a field of grass, him trying to lose her but her always making her way back to him. A younger version of the two of them arguing, yet still sticking together, yet still coming back to each other. A younger version of himself watching as she spins, her blonde hair dancing with the breeze, and him smiling as he picks the grass off the field. And when he can tell she's getting dizzy, he gets up and holds his arms out for her, prepared to catch her if she falls.

As promised, the interview doesn't last long. Madge tells him that this is a short section, just a blurb about the elections that they will include with the results.

She collects her things and puts them in her small bag. "Look for the article in a few days. Thank you for agreeing to see me this morning, Mr. Hawthorne. I hope you have a fantastic day. Make sure you celebrate." She stands from the seat and gives him a small smile before she turns to exit.

"Madge?" He calls, a lump forming in his throat as she looks over her shoulder. "It was nice to see you again."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hello everyone! Thank you for taking the time to read this. Please comment and favorite, and let me know what you think!

A hint for the next chapter: A piano, coffee, and strawberries.


	2. TAKE ME BACK TO THE START

It has almost been a week since Gale has seen Madge, and he can't get her out of his mind. More things come to him throughout the years, but the main thing he remembers is how difficult it was for him to forget about her, and to forgive himself for letting her go, for treating her like the way he did and not realizing it until she was long gone. And now that he knows she's alive, there is too much room to wonder, and it makes him uneasy.

He needs a breath of fresh air. The morning has been busy with not only his own work, but planning for their next move for the elections, as there are some appearances he needs to make. Fortunately, he is allowed a break, as he has already made quite the progress, and his campaign manager claims she doesn't need him.

He doesn't stray too far from the office building, just walking down the street and peering through the stores. He isn't attracted to the things they sell. Most are items of luxury – perfumes, soaps, jewelry – he has no interest in that. He would go in at times to purchase gifts for his family, but that is as much business they get from him. He isn't a fan of spoiling himself just because he can. Years of living with hardly enough has taught him that.

The music is what attracts him to the instrument shop. Usually, when there's music, it's coming from some amateur, someone who doesn't even know how to use the instrument they are playing with. But today, the music sounds good. Someone is playing the piano, and it sounds beautiful. It sounds almost familiar. So, he can't help but enter the shop, to see who's playing, and to find out why he recognizes it.

She is the first thing he sees as he walks toward the back of the shop. She is sitting at one of the grand pianos on display, her eyes closed, dainty fingers jumping off and landing softly on their respective keys. He waits for her to finish the piece, leaning against the wall as he continues to watch her. He knows why the song is familiar now – it's the same song she would hum when they were together, walking through the woods of the field beyond District 12, and looking for the perfect place to settle down and talk.

When it ends, he smiles and approaches her. His own fingers trailing over the wood of the piano. "I didn't know you could play." It isn't exactly true. He's heard rumors that she could play. Katniss once told him that she heard Madge play at their school, or when they sold strawberries to their house. But he never paid attention. He didn't care enough to believe if it were true.

Madge looks at him, a smile blossoms on her features. "There are a lot of things we don't know about each other."

"I guess you're right." His gaze momentarily shifts to the ground, before looking at her again. "Maybe we should fix that."

"We should. I think we owe that to each other. I'm sure you have a lot of questions." As she speaks, she watches him, and sees the discomfort that flashes in his features. "It's okay, Gale. We have a lot of things to talk about. And… I have a lot of questions for you, too."

"Well, are you free right now?"

"For about another hour or so."

He smiles. "Perfect. Let's go to the bakery."

She collects her things and they walk to the bakery together. They're both quiet, thinking of questions to ask each other once they're at their location, sat in front of each other. Gale is nervous of the questions she might ask him. They might be about her family, and he wouldn't know how to tell her that they're gone. But she's nervous, too. Nervous that once he hears the truth, he might hate her. He might think she's selfish.

Once they've entered the shop, Gale insists she takes a seat as he orders their food: two strawberry shortcakes, and two coffees. She sees no point in arguing with him, so she agrees and chooses a seat a little further in the back of the bakery, avoiding the windows. She figures it'll be bad for publicity if they were caught together, especially as she's done a piece on him, and hopes to continue with writing articles on Panem's new politics.

He returns with their food and coffee. They sit in silence for a while, though neither of them find it uncomfortable, because it is never empty. In the silence they share, there is a sense of knowing, a familiarity. It has grown on them over the time they've shared together in District 12.

"I guess I'll start if you don't want to," she speaks as she uses the fork to puncture holes into the cake. "Let's start with something easy, I hope. How is everyone doing now? I don't want to hear about the deaths, please. Just… tell me who's still alive. Tell me how they're doing. Like Katniss and Peeta? Your mom and siblings? Any others that are still alive?"

"I'm sure you've heard, but Katniss and Peeta are a happy ending. They got married, and they have children now." He can see the pity flash across Madge's eyes, and he wishes it didn't appear. After the war, after thinking he's lost Madge, it was easy for him to accept that he and Katniss weren't meant to be together. She said it herself: the two of them were like siblings. And even when she was angry at him for helping build the bombs that killed her sister, her words and her anger didn't hurt as much as the moment he saw Madge's house burn to the ground, thinking she was in it. "I'm sure she would've wanted you at the ceremony. As for my family, they're still in District 12. I guess they're too used to the idea of living there to leave. But they're doing great. Posy's the top of her class, you know."

Madge smiles as he speaks of his sister. "And what about you? What are you doing now other than the obvious? And how are you doing?"

"Me? I—uh, I don't really have anything to say. I haven't been doing much, nothing that you haven't heard of," he says, chuckling softly as he takes a bite of the cake. "My campaign manager, Thea, says I'm married to my work. What about you? How long have you been writing?"

"Not long. I used to just do research for other journalists. Fact checking, and all that. For a long time, I was kind of just afraid to put my name out there, you know?" She gives him an uneasy shrug before taking a sip of her coffee. "But, I bet you want to ask the real question."

He furrows his brows, but remains silent.

"The 'how am I here with you right now when you thought I died' question."

He doesn't say anything, just nods.

She takes another sip of her coffee and clears her throat before starting, nerves nagging at her and returning the fear of how he might react. "Um… someone told my father about the planes that were coming. They told my dad that we had ten minutes to leave. There was a vehicle waiting for us. So, my dad told me to go, and that he was right behind me. I got in the truck, but when I looked, the house was gone. We waited for five minutes. He and my mother never came, and the driver took off." She swallows hard, looking at him, but his expression is unreadable, the way it always is when he's with her. "I wish I could've told people, I do. But the driver was trying to get out of there as fast as he can. My dad's friend dropped me off at 10, and I stayed there for a little bit. It was safe, for a while, but eventually the rebellion got there. I tried to help out with the hospitals for the rebels, but it got too dangerous. I ended up going to 1, and then 3, and then 4, and helped out there. Eventually, after the war, I decided to start over here."

It takes him a moment to take everything he's heard in. He looks at her, and how watery her blue eyes have gotten, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be alright. But that wouldn't be appropriate, and so he doesn't. Instead, he reaches out, and puts his hand on hers. "Madge, I'm so sorry. About your parents, and… everything," he speaks softly, almost like a whisper. "Your family, I – I could've gotten th-."

"Don't. It's alright, Gale. Don't do that to yourself, please. You're a hero. They told me you've gotten hundreds of people out. You've done more than enough." She places her other hand on top of his and gives him a warm, genuine smile.

"Can I ask you – did you know about any of us? If any of us were still alive? Me, Katniss, Peeta, and any of the others?"

"I knew about Peeta and Katniss, because of the videos. I'm not sure about Johanna, I haven't heard about her in a while. I hear she wants to drop out of the spotlight altogether. I knew about Finnick dying, though. I actually helped look after his son for a while and assisted his wife with some errands. Poor Annie, she was in distraught," she shakes her head, her heart growing heavy. "But I didn't know about you. I didn't really hear about you for a while. I hoped you'd made it through the war, and what comes after it. I was so happy when I saw your name in the running."

He smiles. "I'm glad you made it, Madge."

"Right back at you."

They finish their treats in silence, exchanging stolen glances at each other and smiling. When they say goodbye, Gale's mind is in a daze. The girl he thought he lost so many years ago, mostly due to his own foolishness, only partly due to circumstance, is alive, and she's here. The universe found a way to pull them back together.

* * *

 **author's note:** once again, thank you for reading this, everyone! and thank you for the reviews you've left, which truly helps motivate me to write.

a hint for the next chapter: two bottles of whiskey and uncertainty


	3. I LOVE YOU BUT YOU'RE ANNOYING

He is outside of his home, smoke from the grill in his eyes, and the smell of charcoal in the air. Thea sits on one of the chairs he has out on the backyard, with an opened bottle of whiskey in hand. This is a common occurrence between the two friends, spending the weekend catching up with one another and spending what they would consider quality time. Due to how often they see each other, there often aren't any new stories to tell, and when there are none, they would drink their whiskeys in silence or joke around about their futures.

But this time, he has something to tell her. He just doesn't know where to start. Although with the two of them, it doesn't matter. Thea's always been good at picking him apart, and knowing when something's on his mind. This is a skill she's evolved when they met during the rebellion.

"So, tell me, hotshot, what is it that's got you all worked up this week?" She asks before taking a swig of the whiskey. She doesn't take her eyes off of him for a second, and he can feel her stare boring into his skin, creating a hole in his bones.

She isn't wrong – she never is. Ever since he saw Madge, he's been distracted, to no fault of Madge's. He tries to focus on his job and his campaign, but he can't get his mind off the blonde who's writing reports about him and his competition, and that he can't help but search the by lines of every article he comes across for a chance that it might've been written by her. Some things, he supposes, can't be left in the past. Especially if there was never truly an end to them.

He lets out a sigh, and lets a moment of silence fall between the two of them. He almost decides to shake his head and act as though nothing is wrong, that it's just the nerves from the upcoming election, but it isn't true and she knows it. They've never kept secrets from one another, that was their thing. They're two peas in a pod, and they know each other as well as the back of their hands. "Madge. It's Madge, Thea."

He looks at her and watches her eyebrows furrow in confusion. They've beaten this topic to death long ago, back when he was still grieving the losses from the rebellion. "The Madge? The one that got away, Madge? Are you still not over that? It's been years, Gale. I'm sorry, but that girl is long gone." She grabs the other bottle of whiskey and hands it to him. "Is it because you're running as mayor and her father was the mayor? Is that what's reminding you of her?"

Gale accepts the bottle, opens it, and drinks. "Except she's not gone. I mean, she was, for a while. But she's alive. She's a journalist now. For The Tribune."

Thea's eyes widen in surprise, a slight smile curving her lips. "Wait, she's alive? So, what's the problem, then? This is great news! I mean… if you still feel that way."

"Nothing. There's no problem, I guess. It's just that… I don't know, I can't quite wrap my head around it. And you know that interview I did the day after the poll results came out? She was the journalist I spoke to."

"She wrote that article?" Thea almost laughs. "No wonder she was so nice about you. 'Speaking to Mr. Hawthorne has been such an honor.' Sorry, hotshot, but talking to you isn't all that special."

He chuckles, feeling warmth rush to his cheeks when Thea quotes Madge's article. "You say that now, but you'll wind up agreeing with her when I become Mr. Mayor and you have to have appointments to come see me."

"Except you're never going to do that to your best friend and campaign manager. And I'm willing to bet you wouldn't do that to Madge, either. Because you're a softy when it comes to her."

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he turns the chicken on the grill over. "I saw her after the interview, you know. While I was on break."

"Is that why you went on an hour long break? You guys went on a quick date?" She's laughs.

"It wasn't a date. We were just catching up. You know how it is, it's been awhile. And I thought she was dead this entire time."

"Right, okay. Do you still love her?"

He sighs and takes another swig of his whiskey. It is a difficult question to answer now, because it's been so long since they'd last seen each other, and their more recent times together have been too brief for him to be certain of anything. For now, he's just grateful she's still alive, and that she doesn't hate him for not saving her.

He remembers a time when he loved her, and how long it took for him to know that. While Katniss was away in the first game she volunteered in, he had grown to adore Madge and her softness, and how careful she was of everything despite being on the safer side of town. But at that time, his feelings for Katniss were too strong. But, when the Quarter Quell took place, and Katniss was forced to return to the arena, he became more certain of how he felt for Madge, and that feeling strengthened as they spent more time with each other. It was then that he really got to know Madge, and it was in the meadow where they'd shared hidden kisses that he convinced himself didn't mean anything.

"I don't know," he manages to say, because the truth is that he doesn't. "But I want to spend more time with her. I want to find out."

* * *

 **author's note:** so, just to clarify - i picture these characters to be in their early 30s. still young and full of hope, but without knowledge of the world. as usual, thank you so much for reading!

hint for next chapter: liquid courage and ballgowns


	4. THE WAY TO A WOMAN'S HEART

To Gale, the idea of the event was both generous and unnecessary. Panem officials and other wealthy citizens should just be asked to donate money out of the goodness of their hearts, but they are unfortunately still human. They want to get something out of what they give. So, District 2's current mayor has decided to throw a fundraising ball. Each attendant is required to wear a suit and tie, or a nice gown, and they must at least donate 500 dollars and turn it into the mayor's office in exchange for some tickets. Gale can't help but wonder how much money would actually be turned into Panem's new government. He likes their current mayor, but it is no secret that the event would cost quite a bit of money. Even if it would be thrown at the mayor's house.

He attends the event anyway, out of obligation, with Thea as his date. After all, she's the one who practically forced him to go, claiming it would look good for his campaign to be seen in public, and in an event held by the current mayor nonetheless. He can't afford to tarnish his current reputation, especially as it is so close to the election.

The mayor's home is a mansion, so grand and upscale that it sends chills down his spine as he walks in. The ceiling is tall, the walls covered with paper that was probably handpicked. He is told the house has five bedrooms and is quite roomy, which makes him feel as though he would be lonely if he were to win the election. Mayor Roberts has a large family, three kids and all. The family fills up the space quite well, and at present, Gale is unable to. That is, unless he can convince his family to move in with him, but it seems unlikely as his siblings are still in school or have jobs now. It would be too much change for them.

The ballroom is filled with people he knows from work. Men come around to pat him on the back and say their hellos, and the women greet them with friendly kisses on the cheek. They are escorted to a table, where Gale becomes determined to stay for the remainder of the night.

"Look alive, hotshot," Thea nudges him.

Gale shifts his glance upward and finds himself staring straight at Madge. She looks as stunning as she always does, hair done in the half-up style he's always liked, her cheeks rosy and dewy, her mouth tinted with the shade of fresh strawberries. Her lavender dress covers her body quite well, flowing in all the right places.

"Nice arm candy," he hears Thea say. He hasn't even noticed the man on Madge's arm, cleanly shaved with bright eyes and obviously sharp jawline. "Sorry, dude."

He can't help but shrug, feigning apathy. "It's whatever."

She rolls her eyes. She knows him too well to accept him acting like this. "Hey, maybe you should go talk to her."

He turns his head away from Madge and her date, and shifts his attention back to Thea. "And what would I say?"

"How about hello?" She replies with another roll of her eyes. "I don't know. Put on that Gale Hawthorne charm. Wait, no, I'm sorry – that doesn't exist. Thank her for being so nice to you in that article. Ask her to dance. Do something. Who knows, maybe that guy isn't even her boyfriend. And if he isn't, tell her to put in a good word for me, will ya?"

He scoffs. "I do have charm. What are you talking about?"

Thea tilts her head and glares at him. "Really? All you heard in that whole speech is 'you don't have charm'? Go talk to her, damn it."

"Alright, alright. I will."

It takes him an hour and a drink to muster up the courage to approach her. He's also been waiting for her to be alone, as she is sitting next to her date. Thea has essentially abandoned him as she makes her way through the attendants networking. Finally, Madge's date gets up and walks away, and Gale figures now is as good a time as any as he approaches her.

He quickly walks toward her – so fast that he has to remind himself to slow down. When he is near her, a grin automatically spreads across his lips as she sips on her drink.

"Madge," he says with a smile, calling for her attention.

"Gale!" She beams, putting her drink on the table. "It's nice to see you. Here, have a seat. Tommy won't be back for a few minutes. He has a business call to attend to, apparently."

"Um, thanks," he says, sitting next to her. "I just wanted to thank you for the nice things you said to me on that article. So, thanks."

She shrugs. "I didn't lie. It was a great interview. But you're welcome."

He can't help but smile wider, and before he lets his cowardice wins, he puts on a teasing grin. "So, is that your boyfriend I just saw, or-."

"No," she cuts him off. "Not yet, anyway."

He chuckles softly. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm still making him work for it." She has this grin on her features that can't help but make him wonder if she's kidding or not. She's always been good at that kind of humor.

Without much thought, he hears himself say something he didn't think he would ask: "Do you want to dance?" Clearly, Thea's advice has been on his mind for far too long, and he can't help himself.

"Sure."

She leads him to the dance floor, taking his hands and placing them on her waist. She then wraps her arms around his neck as they begin to sway to the music. She's smiling at him, a true, genuine smile that twists his stomach into knots.

"So, is she your girlfriend?" Madge asks.

He furrows his eyebrows. "Who?"

"Your date for the night." She says this matter-of-factly, as though he should know who she's talking about, and nods her head behind him.

He turns as they dance so he sees what Madge is seeing. It's Thea, sitting at a table surrounded by people she's making connections with. He has to admit, though it isn't at all difficult to, she looks beautiful. The dark green of her gown compliments her brown skin quite well. Thea has a certain quality about her that is so appealing, and for a long time, Gale has been certain that she could break a man's heart just by looking at him. Still, that doesn't stop her from having a plethora of suitors.

"Thea? No. That's funny, though. She's my best friend turned campaign manager."

Madge tilts her head, pulling slightly away from him so she can look him in the eyes. "Best friend, huh? I'd like to meet her."

He chuckles softly and nods. "Let me introduce you two. Just promise me you won't believe whatever embarrassing thing she says about me."

She nods and he leads her to the table where Thea is sitting. "Excuse me. Thea," he says with a gentle smile, catching her attention from the people sitting at their table. When he interrupts, they focus on having their own conversations. He's relieved that none of them wants to focus on him and the election. "Someone wants to meet you. Though, I don't understand why. This is Madge Undersee."

Thea's face lights up, her lips forming a wide smile. "Hello, Ms. Undersee," she greets, extending her hand and the two of them shake hands. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Madge furrows her brows, though there is a bright smile that is clear on her features. "Finally?"

Thea laughs. "Gale's told me a lot about you."

"Thea." Gale's voice is low, eyes wide as warmth rushes to his cheeks.

Madge merely laughs. "All good things, I hope."

"All great things." Thea gestures toward the two open seats next to her. "Please, sit down. You, too, hotshot."

Gale and Madge sit beside Thea, with Gale in between the two women. He smiles as they talk about him and their lives, along with his role in the election. It's almost strange how even though they just met, they seem to be the perfect pair of friends, as they laugh and smile at everything the other said. It definitely isn't unlikely. Both Madge and Thea are likable in their own ways. Thea with her humor and candor, and Madge with her sweetness and kindness. Both women are good energies to be surrounded by, and Gale is unable to wipe the grin off his face.

* * *

This is such a stereotypical sweet moment, but it's a Gale and Madge thing. I always like to think that Madge at some point managed to teach Gale how to dance, even just a little bit.

Hint for the next chapter: Two friends, a vague confession, and an invitation


	5. I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM HOLDING ON

Another week means it is another one of Gale and Thea's days away from the office. Gale is preparing burgers in his kitchen, with a bottle of beer beside him, as he balls the meat, flattens them, and places them on a plate with wax paper. Thea is sitting at the other side of the counter, knife in hand as she chops potatoes to fry later, with her own beer bottle sitting next to her.

Thea's eyes light up, a sharp intake of breath as she looks over at Gale, who frowns as he recognizes that she has an idea. "You know what would be fun?"

"What is it?" He already doesn't like how it is sounding. Her ideas tend to get them into trouble, after all.

"If we invite Madge! She's nice, I like her." Thea is grinning too widely, and Gale is unsure of how he feels about that.

"You're crazy. This is our day, remember?" His brows furrow as he stops what he's doing to look at her. Thea has never been a fan of inviting people to a day that is supposed to be dedicated to just the two of them. There was a time when Gale invited a co-worker, and Thea didn't talk to him for days.

Thea rolls her eyes. "Just invite the girl over, hotshot. Who knows, maybe she'll bring her boyfriend. Then you can finally have a guy friend."

Gale fakes a hurt expression at her words. "I have plenty of guy friends."

"They're co-workers, and a million years your senior. It's not the same thing." Thea has a point and she knows it, a smug grin spreading across her features.

He rolls his eyes, letting her win. There is never any point to arguing with Thea. She always wins, and even when she doesn't, she makes it a point to make sure whoever's opposing her knows she's right anyway. "Go ahead, call her if you're so inclined. My hands are disgusting."

She washes her hands and grabs Gale's phone, a smirk tugging on her lips as she makes the call. Madge arrives minutes later with a cup of coffee in her hand, which Thea replaces with a shot of whiskey. Gale has left the two women in the kitchen as he heads to the backyard and begin grilling the burgers.

"How's Gale doing with the elections coming up?" Madge asks before taking a small sip from the shot glass. "Off the record."

Thea shrugs. "He's nervous. It's kind of funny, actually. He's usually so smooth, unfazed about everything. But I guess he realized this is the big leagues. I haven't seen him like this since the rebellion. Except he was more sure that we were going to win the rebellion than he is about winning this election."

"Ah, of course. That's natural." Madge can't help but smile as she finishes the shot. "Well, I hope things go well for him."

"Yeah, don't we all," Thea replies, taking a sip of her beer. "So, how's your boyfriend?"

Madge laughs. "Who? Tommy? No, no. He's not my boyfriend." She shakes her head. "Never was. I guess he got tired of trying to make himself worth it."

Thea perks up. "That sucks. Sorry, babe."

Madge gives her a shrug. "Thanks, but I don't know if you should be sorry about it. I mean, it stung. But, it's just like a mosquito bite. Put medication on it and you'll be fine. Besides, I think I'm kind of into someone else." Her eyes lift from the counter and settles on Gale as he walks in with cooked burgers.

"And on that note, let's talk about something else." He sets the plate of burgers on the counter, takes the buns out of the toaster, and begins frying the potatoes. "Posy's birthday is coming up, ladies. I'm catching the train on Thursday to visit them. Thea, you're in, right?"

"Of course." Thea nods, smiling. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, Posy would hate me if I do."

"Madge?"

Her eyes widen, but she's beaming at the invitation. She nods. "Yes! Absolutely!"

* * *

Sorry this chapter is so short! But the next one should be longer, and I'm excited to release it. 3

 **Hint for next chapter:** Familial excitement, meadows, and strawberries.


	6. STRAWBERRIES IN YOUR HAIR

Gale and Thea arrives at Madge's apartment early in the morning, with coffee and a box of pastries in hand. His home isn't that far from her apartment building, which surprises him and Thea, seeing as the two of them have never run into one another. Although, their offices are on opposite sides of town, and Gale rarely leaves his home. In the few times he does, he's usually over at Thea's.

Thea drives the three of them to the train station, despite Gale arguing that it isn't far enough to spend gas. However, as usual, Thea wins the debate, which is probably for the better seeing as both women accompanying Gale are wearing heels. Besides, taking the car is the wisest choice, as when they arrived and bought their tickets, the train is about to leave.

The train attendant allows them to board, and the trio chooses a set of four seats that face each other. Madge slides into one of the window seats with Thea opposite of her, and Gale sits next to Madge.

"What's our ETA?" Thea asks, checking her wristwatch. She then takes a coffee out of the carrier and a pastry from the box.

"Noon the next day," Gale answers, picking a cheese Danish from the box.

Madge takes the coffee and sips on it, the warmth from the beverage is welcomed. "Do you go see your family often, Gale?"

"Yeah, during the holidays and birthdays. At least, I try to visit. Work gets in the way sometimes."

Madge smiles. "That must be nice. What about Katniss and Peeta? What's going on with those two? Do you see them at all?"

He nods. "They sometimes attend family celebrations, seeing as they're essentially family."

"Speaking of Katniss, I'm surprised there haven't been interviews of Katniss and Peeta." Thea pauses to sip her coffee. "You know, especially now that you're running for mayor and all."

Gale lets out a soft chuckle. "I think she's just trying to stay out of it all and finally get what she wants. Life with peace."

They arrive at the District 12 station at noon, and wait for their ride outside. Rory takes the liberty of picking them up in an old car he bought with his savings, and then later learned to fix up so it can be used. His jaw drops upon seeing Madge, just as should be expected. Gale has forgotten to give them the news, leaves it out of messages to his mother and his siblings because they were there when he got the news, and he isn't so sure if Madge is staying in his life for good.

"Holy mother of – Madge Undersee! You're alive!" He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. "Posy will be so excited to see you!"

Madge matches the grin on his features. "And I'm excited to see her!"

The ride from the station to the house isn't long, only a few minutes, though it's made longer by their decision to stop by a nearby bakery to purchase Posy's favorite chocolate cake, the kind Gale has always gotten her each year since they started doing better financially.

Rory leads the three of them into the house, carrying the things they've brought. His mother is the first person he looks for.

"Mom! Look who it is!" Rory yells as he walks through the living room, and into the kitchen where his mother is. Madge, Gale, and Thea follow behind him.

"Madge Undersee?" Hazelle asks in disbelief, eyes widened as she pulls Madge in for a hug. "Welcome, welcome, dear!" When they pull away, a wide grin is spread across her features.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. It's so nice to see you again. All of you," Madge replies, beaming.

"Me? Please. Look at you, right before my eyes. I never thought I'd see you again."

Madge laughs. "It's certainly been too long of a time. Especially with the rumors of my death and all. Where's our birthday girl?"

Mrs. Hawthorne lets out a soft laugh. "Posy! Look who's here!"

Posy comes into the living room, running, and when her eyes land on Madge, a bright smile spreads across her features as she wraps her arms around her.

"Madge!" She exclaims. "I knew I'd see you again. I just knew it!"

Madge lets out a soft chuckle, but the grin has become permanent on her features at this point. "Thank you for having faith in me, Posy. Oh, and I have something for you." She gets the bag she brought over from Rory, and pulls out the present: a book she's had since she was Posy's age. It was her favorite book, as it is one of the few stories she found at one of District 12's shops that didn't involve Panem's history. The gift is wrapped with a pale pink paper, with a bow of a similar shade attached to it.

Posy clutches the present to her chest. "Oh, Madge, you didn't have to get me anything! But thank you!"

"Anything for you, Pose," she beams, giving the girl a kiss on the cheek. "Now, come on, open it."

Gale and Thea do their routine when it comes to reunions: hug the family, talk about life, and eat. It is a merriment that Gale enjoys, especially since most of the time he actually likes the people in these reunions, because they're mainly just his and Thea's families.

After they clear the table from the food, and have cleaned up, the Hawthornes, along with Thea and Madge, sit at the living room, watching Vick play the guitar he bought at one of Panem's antique shops.

"Gale, can you pick some strawberries for me? Please?" Posy asks, batting her eyelashes at her older brother, with a pout to match. "The strawberries at the market are never quite as good."

"Sure, Pose. Anything for you," he nods, turning to Thea. "Thea, you wanna come? You know, you've never been to the meadow."

Thea practically snorts. "There's a reason for that. Do these shoes look like they're made for walking through meadows and up and down hills?"

Gale rolls his eyes before turning to Madge. "Fair enough. Madge?"

"Sure," she nods, grabbing her shoes and standing up from the couch.

Madge follows Gale's lead. Without the electric fence that separates Panem from the wild, Madge almost can't tell where their once precious meadow is. She is surprised the strawberries still grow there, although a lot of them seem to have been picked. But, a lot of the time as they're walking, her mind is cluttered with memories of being here, with the same man she's walking behind.

"It's been a while since I've been here." There is sentiment laced with her tone, almost wistful. "It's almost like nothing's changed. Well, except for the fence."

Gale smiles. "You know what they say, nothing changes but us." He slows his pace so he's walking beside her. "I still remember the first time I took you out here. You were so scared of the fence that I practically had to yank you through."

She laughs. "Who wouldn't have been scared of the fence? If you didn't have to go through it every day, I bet you would've been scared, too."

"No, I would've rather been dead back then," he admits nonchalantly. He can joke about this now, though before, it was serious.

"Gale!" She exclaims, widened eyes, a worried little grin on her features.

"Sorry, sorry," he raises his hands up in a manner of surrendering. "Well, here we are."

They stop at a fresh patch of strawberries. Madge takes in a deep breath, the smell of the fresh fruit and the grass wafting through the air. She can't help but smile, as she runs her fingers over some strawberries.

"Do you remember my reaction the first time I saw these?" She asks.

He nods as he steps closer, pulling off the ripe strawberries and placing it in the basket Posy gave him. "You looked like the happiest person in the world."

"I was," she replies, picking the strawberries off the bush. "It was like paradise, like dreaming up a place and finding out it exists. Although, I wish it weren't Panem. The old version of it, anyway."

He chuckles, getting closer to her as he finishes off his section of the strawberry patch. "You might not want to say that out loud."

"It's not like anyone can hear us. Not that it even matters anymore. Besides, it's not like you were shy about sharing secrets yourself. Especially since we were still under Snow's reign then."

"Most of my secrets didn't involve Panem."

"Right. By the time I was around, most of them just involved…" She pauses, glancing down at the strawberry she's picking off. "Us."

He grins. "They were good secrets. Too bad we were never good at keeping them."

She laughs. "But we were always great at pretending."

"Now. But we weren't before," he shrugs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Warmth rushes to her face, cheeks turning pink as she glances at the sliver of space between them. She shies away, and turns to the opposite direction. "We should probably get back. We wouldn't want to worry the family and all."

* * *

As usual, thank you for reading!

 **Hint for the next chapter:** Walking home, reminiscing, and remembering what could've been


End file.
